Gregory's Hanging Life
by pinkblacktiara
Summary: Danica found Gregory on the battle field, but he didn't die. If a serpent owed a hawk his life, what would have happened differently? Danica's POV, set in Hawksong.
1. In the Battlefield

**Summary: Danica found Gregory on the battle field, but he didn't die. If a serpent owed a hawk his life, what would have happened differently? Danica's POV**

**A/N: This picks up right when Gregory tells her to 'end it'. Some of the dialogue is taken from the book in the very beginning, but I did change Danica's thoughts to reflect what's going to happen later.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hawksong, so review, not sue!**

"End it. Please." He told me, looking me strait in the eye. Normally I would have recoiled from the scarlet gaze, but I didn't now. It didn't seem frightening at all; just the pleading look of another fallen soldier.

I winced. I wanted to stop the pain, I did, but… how could I take another life? Even a serpent? My eyes filled up with tears, and despite my avian reserve, they spilled onto Gregory Cobriana. He was no longer an enemy; here, fallen in battle, he was a brother, son, a friend who would die because of this endless bloodshed.

I held his hand tightly as I reached for my knife, but Rei caught my hand and shook his head. "Dani," he warned, worry in his eyes.

I looked at him, tears still in my eyes. "It could take him hours to die like this," I argued quietly, hoping Gregory didn't hear me.

"Let the hours pass," Rei said tightly. "Serpiente believe in mercy killing, but not when it's the other side that does it. Not when it's the heir to the Tuuli Thea who ends the life of one of their two surviving princes."

I shook my head sharply, but put my dagger back in my waistband, then lifted up the ends of Gregory's shirt. He winced, that must have hurt. I soothed him while I examined the wound. I'd seen too many to be very sickened by it, but each one still hit me hard. But with more examination, I realized that the wound wasn't as deep as I had thought at first.

Taking my canteen out of my waistband, I spilled some water onto his stomach. I sang while I cleaned the wound, feeling him tighten his grip on my hand. But when I was finished, I saw that the wound wasn't so bad.

Maybe he would live. No, he wouldn't. As long as he was on this field, at the mercy of the bloody air and hard ground, he would die. My eyes overflowed and I let my demi-form wings burst out of my skin. I fluttered them for a moment, then stood up, gathering Gregory in my arms. He was heavy, but with the added strength I received from my demi-form, I held him tightly in my arms easily.

"Dani," Rei said, worried at what I was doing. "What _are_ you doing?"

"Taking him to the Keep," I said, determined. They wouldn't stop me, not this time. I could not stop my own brother from dying, I would save someone else's, serpiente or not. He was responsible for this bloodshed as much as I was.

Not waiting for Rei to argue with me, I beat my powerful, golden wings, and was off.

"Don't worry," I told Gregory as I raced through the trees, avoiding all signs of battle, hoping I wouldn't be shot down. "You'll be alright, I promise. I'm going to take care of you." His blood was trickling onto my shirt, and I prayed fervently that I was right.

"DANI!" Rei yelled, already in the air next to me with the rest of the Royal Flight. He lapsed into the informal with his worry. "What are you doing? You can't bring a serpiente into the Keep! Tuuli Thea will kill you! He'll kill you once he's healed, and slaughter your mother with you! Don't do this!"

I looked at him, my avian shell making me distant and frosty. "I am doing this. He will live; I won't let another one die."

I refused to argue anymore, and beat my wings faster, trying to reach the Keep as soon as possible.

Thankfully, I was not shot at. I would of sang to Gregory as I flew, but the added weight and extra speed was making me breathless. I contented myself with brushing the hair back from his eyes often. The contact was strange for me, but I wanted more than anything to comfort him until we got there, and he seemed not to mind.

I landed in the courtyard, letting my wings fold back under my skin, as if they were never there. And then I realized how heavy he was, and sprouted my wings again, I flew along the corridors, up flights of stairs and into my room, locking my door behind me. I would not let the Rei stop me, not this time.

I laid him on my bed and my wings disappeared. I heard banging on the other side of my door, then Rei yelling clearly, "Get the Tuuli Thea!"

"As heir," I shouted to the door, "I command you not to!" I normally didn't pull my rank, but it was what I had to do now. "If you do, you will be convicted of treason!" I ran to my balcony to lock that door as well.

I could feel the hesitation, so I ignored them now and propped him up on my pillows. The wound had stop bleeding now, and I lifted up his shirt again. I could fix this. I knew I could. I _hoped _I could. Rei had taught me how to sew cuts and wounds.

"I'll be back soon," I promised, then ran to my bathroom to wet a cloth. I let the cold water soak the cloth, then took a cup from the side of my sink and filled that with cool water as well.

I came back and lay the cloth onto his wound, then moved him to my lap. "Here, drink this," I said, helping tip the water into his mouth. He drank gratefully, and I wondered at that. Didn't he worry it was poisoned? Or maybe he trusted me. That would be strange.

"Thank you," he whispered when the water was all gone. I let his head down slowly so I could get more water.

When I finished tipping the second cup into his mouth, his eyelids fluttered. "No!" I said forcefully. If he fell asleep, he might die. "No, no, Gregory, stay awake with me, please. Don't go asleep, please, please stay awake," I pleaded with him. "Don't go to sleep, stay with me, don't sleep!"

He fought the stupor and I he said so quietly I could hardly hear him, "You have souls after all."

I didn't understand what he meant. Maybe he thought that an avian had to be heartless to go on the battlefield. I knew I had to try to be heartless to turn away from each funeral for my family.

Shaking my head, trying not to think about that, I sang to him. I sang to him, trying to keep him awake, letting him concentrate on my voice. I had been told often that my voice was the most beautiful thing about me. I sang to him of peace and hope, I sang to him every sweet song for children I could think of. I sang to him while I sewed up the cut, I sang to him every song I could think of at least twice. I sang to him until a sharp rap on my door caught my attention and my mother's voice rang, anger coloring her tone, "Shardae!"

**This is my first Kiesha'Ra fanfic, so tell me what you think! I won't update until I get two reviews, or else I think it sucks and nobody wants to read it. So, please, if you finish reading, review! **


	2. Dealing With The Wound

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, duckies. On to the ****chapter! I think Danica's mum is a bit OCC, but ****whatever. **

**Disclaimer: Zane (and the rest of his posse yes, I ****just said 'posse') wasn't given to me for the ****holidays, so, at the moment, I don't own Hawksong.**

_Last time: I sang to him until a sharp rap on my door __caught my attention and my mother's voice rang, anger __coloring her tone, "Shardae!"_

I gulped and bit back an unladylike curse. It was foolish of me to think that my half-threat would of kept them from telling my mother that I brought the serpiente prince into Hawk's Keep.

I wasn't finished sewing up the wound, and I deliberated for a moment. Gregory was in obvious pain, tensed up, and leaving it until later wouldn't be best. On the other hand, if I were to speak to my mother for a moment, I would be able to tell her that I was doing this no matter what, and to get something from Betsy for the pain. No, that wouldn't work, I would simply be ordered to kill him, and the Tuuli Thea's orders were always heeded. And what would avian healing do to him? I wasn't sure, and I had already expended a good amount of effort to keep him alive; I didn't want to poison him now.

Still hesitating, my mother called again. "Shardae!" her voice was unemotional now, only the slightest bit of rush in it. "Open this door!" She had the keys; soon she would be bursting in and the guards would be killing Gregory.

I found it interesting that I couldn't let that happen. After all the serpiente had done to my family, I couldn't let one of their surviving princes die. It wouldn't be my fault if he did or had; he would of been doomed from the battlefield.

Gregory winced on my lap, and I felt a wave of remorse. He wasn't a serpiente now; he was a fallen solider, and I would help him.

I let him off my lap easily, then went to the door. I called through the wood, "I am here, but I won't come out. At least, not for a few more days. He's-" I wasn't sure if my mother was informed that it was one of the serpiente princes himself, so I didn't want to push it "-far too hurt to do any harm to me." "Danica," my mother replied, her tone not at all pleased, "Do not act like a little chick, bursting into your room and slamming the door. Let us in and let him out!"

I had no choice in this; her authority rang in every syllable. What could appeal to her? What could make her understand? Nothing. That much I knew. Even I didn't know why I was so bent on saving this enemy heir.

"Mother," I said more quietly. "He is hurt, and if we save him, that could very well be a cause for peace! He wouldn't forget who saved his life, he wouldn't-"

She cut me off. "Shardae, they are serpents! They don't care for peace! Now let us in!"

I unbolted the door and then opened it a crack. "Mother, please." I said. "He is another brother, another son, dying."

I saw what I had seen at every funeral; a flash of pain and then the smooth avian mask. She deliberated for a moment, then said, "Three days, Danica. Three days and then he is gone." And with that, she turned on her heel and glided out of the hallway.

I shut the door again, tending back to Gregory. The cut was halfway sewed shut, and my crude stitches did little for the pain. I tried to make them tighter, closer together, singing gently as I leaned over him, concentrating on making every stitch as perfect as I could.

He was drifting in and out of sleep by the time I was finished, and I supposed that was all right now. He wouldn't die from blood loss, not anymore. I debated if to put him in a clean shirt or not. I decided against it. I doubted I had anything that would fit him, and the changing of his shirt may hurt him even more.

That reminded me; my shirt was covered in his blood. I let him down gently (he was breathing softly and my worries that he would slip into a coma and die were gone) and got up, my bare feet touching the cold floor silently. I pulled a clean tunic over my head as quickly as possible without making any noise, then went back to my bed.

His face was peaceful, though he was still tensed. The pain was still there, then. I moved him over so his feet weren't dangling off the side, then pulled a blanket over him. I didn't know how hot or cold serpents were supposed to be, but I figured it wouldn't hurt.

I leaned against the wall, watching his face intentlyfor any sign of distress, deciding I would call for some soothing potions if so. He seemed fine for someone who had just been stabbed in the stomach a few hours ago.

Night came and went; I saw the sun filter through my balcony to tell me it was a new morning and still he slept. I started to fret; was this good for him? He moved his head every once in a while, as if looking for something, so I didn't think he was in a coma. I didn't want to leave, in case he woke up, but I had to get him food. I got up, my legs stiff, and walked into the hallway, where Rei and Karl were standing guard, at the ready for my scream.

"Karl?" I asked him.

He looked at me. "Shardae?" he said respectfully.

"Please ask a servant to get some type of broth or something; anything healthy, really, from Betsy." He nodded and was off; to tell the servant himself, I suppose.

Rei looked at me, then said, "Danica, why are you doing this?" His voice was cool, but I could tell he was disgusted I would help a serpiente.

"He has family too," I stated softly, then said, a bit louder, "He still hasn't waken up, but I do think he'll survive."

Rei's face stayed blank, but I knew him well enough to know that he would rather Gregory died.

I turned and went back into my room, the door shutting automatically behind me. Weighted hinges were nice, I decided.

I curled up into my last position, seeing gladly that Gregory had not woken up yet. But what would happen when he did? Would he be thankful I saved his life, or would he of rather died in battle then be helped by a hawk? Would he try to kill me the instant he saw me, or would he be grateful towards me?

I didn't have an answer to what he would do, but it looked like I would need it soon, since he was waking up. His eyelids fluttered, then his garnet eyes were revealed. They were unfocused at first, taking in his surroundings, I'm sure, but then they focused on something; me, leaning over him to see how he was.

I couldn't help it, the sight of his eyes made me recoil. It didn't chill me to the bone, as it might of under different circumstances, but it was enough to make me flinch. "Are you all right?" I asked him, worried both that if I didn't say something, he'd assume I was going to kill him and then kill me first, and that he wasn't, that there was something else I missed.

"Danica Shardae," he stated, his voice raspy from sleep and the wound.

**Muwahaha. Review, my dears, and Happy Holidays! Since ****I got four reviews for my first chappie, I'm going to ****just post the next one without waiting for my normally ****mandatory two reviews. But do it anyway, or else I'll ****leave a HUUUUGE cliffie next chappie, and we don't ****want that now, do we? -evil laugh goes here-**


	3. Infection

**A/N! I am so sorry this took so long; my keyboard broke and I was no longer able to type the letter 't'. It was then I figured out how crucial the 't' is.**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to IWABABY, because (s)he –no lie- reviewed within three minutes of my posting chapter 2. And, I'm no longer asking for 'mandatory reviews', because I've got enough to last me three more chapters! (Yes, I try to get two reviews a chapter.) Also, I'm always worried that Danica is OCC, so please, tell me if she is, in any sentence. I love concrit. (Actually, I love reviews in general. ::hint hint nudge nudge::)**

**Disclaimer: Yes. Hawksong is _mine_. ::gets a lawsuit slapped on her by some random lawyer::. Or not… **

_Last time: "Danica Shardae," he stated, his voice raspy from sleep and the wound._

I was a bit frightened now; but I couldn't let this stop me. I tried to remember what I had told my mother; that he would be grateful for my help and not kill me the instant he awoke.

"Yes, I'm here," I said. My fear for my life, strangely, did not outweigh my fear that he was still hurt. "Are you alright?"

He grimaced, then said, his voice still raspy, "Water, please?"

Oh! Well, that was dumb of me; I should have kept some with me at all times. I got off the bed, grabbing the cup off the floor that I had used before, and filled it with cold water in my bathroom as fast as I could.

In my haste to go back, my bare feet caught on my bathroom rug, and I was sent flying, and not in the normal way. The cup clattered at my feet and landed ten feet away, in my bedroom. The water had already started soaking that rug.

I sighed dejectedly, then scrambled to my feet to collect the cup and refill it. I made my way carefully this time, making sure to avoid the rug.

I sat down carefully on the bed, so not to disturb him too much, then said, "Do you need help?"

He shook his head and tried to prop himself up, to take the drink from my hands. He moaned in pain when he tried, falling backwards, and I rushed to catch him. The cup fell onto my bed, spilling on my covers.

"Sorry," he muttered, still tensed, pain written all over his face. At that point, I heard a knock.

"Come in!" I called, hoping it would be the servant with Betsy's drink.

It was. A small sparrow came in, putting the cup down on the chest at the end of my bed. Her hands were shaking and her eyes were wide, taking in the scene of a serpent on my lap. "F-from the h-h-healers, Sh-sh-sh-Shardae," she stuttered, then ran out the door.

I refused to let myself worry about this, instead I reached behind me and grabbed the steaming mug. "Here, drink this," I told him, moving him so he was in a better position to drink. I kept him on my lap and held the bowl steady while he gripped it tightly, drinking gratefully and eagerly.

I took it away after it was about halfway gone. "Stop for a moment," I said softly, "Your stomach'll get sore." Gods only knew what would happen if he threw up with the stomach wound he had.

He nodded, and then closed his eyes, slumping from his semi-upright position that I was helping him with. The simple task of drinking had exhausted him.

We sat there like that for a few minutes, his breathing loud. He wasn't asleep, so a few minutes later, I said softly, "Gregory? C'mon, you've got to drink the rest of it now."

His eyelids fluttered, and, at once, I felt awful. He was so tired; I should have let him stay in his halfway resting spot. But he needed to drink this; it would help. Or it could poison him… No, there was no reason for it to. Serpiente and avians must be alike in that one way, that we both needed rest and fluids when we're sick. Those two needs must be basic.

Or, instead of guessing, I could just ask him. His eyes were now open, his face drawn and tired, but he looked determined, prepared to drink. "Gregory?" I asked him. "What do you normally need when you're sick?"

He took a deep breath, then said, "Water. Food. Sleep." Each word was separate, but I could see some of his strength returning. I wasn't sure if that was because of his determination, the broth, or both.

I nodded. Good, I hadn't killed him yet. I helped him drink, once more, and some color returned to his cheeks when he was done. Well, some color; he was naturally pale.

He had recovered enough strength now to speak. "Thank you," he repeated, then said, "You know who I am."

It was a statement. I had called him Gregory, so he must know that I knew him. My mind raced; what was I supposed to do now? Did he remember being on the battle field?

"Gregory, right?' I didn't want to add the last name.

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them again. "And you're Danica Shardae." This was also a statement, and I swallowed hard.

"Yes," I said. What else was there to say? He could easily bite my thigh; his head was leaning on them. I felt my pulse pound and settle into my wrists, beating rapidly.

"Don't worry," he said, almost sleepily, but his spark of determination to stay awake was still there. "I'm just curious; why?"

We both knew what he was talking about. Blunt little snake, wasn't he?

"Well…" I thought. I had explained it to my mother, my best friend… why couldn't I explain it to the victim himself? No, it was rather hard to think of him as a victim. Even laying there in my lap, unable to drink by himself, he still seemed strong.

"Well," I started again, "I've seen many die because of this war. I was too late to save my own brother-" I saw him wince slightly, and I wondered; was it because of the pain, or had he been one of those to plunge the knife into Xavier? "-and the next person I saw was you. I suppose you weren't lucky enough for me to leave well enough alone," I said, teasing weakly. I was still waiting for a sharp pain in the leg.

"Thank you," he said, his voice raspy again.

"Water!" I muttered, mainly to myself. I let him off me, once again, to go to the bathroom and fill up the cup from the basin. Coming back, I noticed that there was something on his shirt.

_Blood_, I thought. Moving onto the bed gracefully, I pulled him back onto my lap, saying, "I've got to check your wound. Wait one second." I lifted his shirt gingerly, and looked at the wound in horror.

**(A/N: I'm not that mean.)**

The wound was oozing where my stitches were, overflowing with pus boils. Yellowy liquid could be seen under the thin coverings. I couldn't help but gasp; it was obviously infected.

"Oh, no, no, no!" I muttered angrily. "No, no, no, no!" I repeated myself, looking. I didn't have the faintest idea how to deal with this.

"Rei!" I called, anxiety coloring my tone.

Rei burst in; although my cry was not fearful, there was no doubt in his mind that soon Gregory would attack me.

Before he could ask, I said fervently, "Get Betsy, get a healer, get _somebody!_"

He didn't ask, thankfully, instead turning to the hallway and repeating the orders to Karl. I heard the beating of wings as Karl flew off to the Healers Wing.

"What is it?" Gregory asked, rather calm for someone whose wound was –perhaps fatally- infected.

It was his body, so no doubt he could tell my lie. I went with the truth. "An infection." I didn't tell him how bad it was.

He seemed to be able to tell anyway. "Is it bad?" I was wrong before, he was _extremely _blunt.

I shook my head. "Nothing horrible." My voice sounded fake, even to me.

"I do appreciate it, you know," he said, almost conversationally. He had such mood swings! "Not letting me die on the battle field. I doubt everyone took kindly to you taking in a Cobra."

It was then when I heard Karl come back, Betsy and her second healer, Libba. They both looked a bit surprised at my company, but they hid it well. I silently blessed Avian reserve.

"What is it?" they asked, and I motioned at the long wound.

"It's infected."

They nodded knowingly, then went over to his side. Libba took something out of her waistband and poked one of the pockets. Gregory gasped in pain as the boil exploded, leaving a thick yellow pus in its wake. I grabbed his hand, and he held onto it as if it were his anchor to get rid of the pain.

"Talk to me," I said, willing anything to get his mind off the pain as Libba popped another one, dabbing a green paste onto it afterwards.

So he did. He first told me about a necklace that his mother had gotten a few days ago and his sister, Irene, had used. Apparently Irene had lost it and hadn't told her mother yet. Prodding for more questions, he told me about Irene, and then the rest of his family. I asked him about his life, his childhood, anything I could to make him concentrate on something else.

It wasn't over soon enough.

**There you are, loves! Read and review, and Irene'll come into the next chapter (or two).**


	4. Authors Note

**A/N: Okay, this has been bothering me for ages. No, this isn't a chapter; sorry. But the title… I really hate it. I mean, c'mon. I couldn't have gotten less creative. So, please ignore it. I despise it; it annoys me to no end and doesn't really describe the fic. I mean, it describes the first chapter. Woo. **

**Thank you; that'll be all.**


	5. Mood Swings

**A/N: My computer seriously went KABLOOIE. Many apologies for this taking so long. If Danica is OCC, never forget to tell me! I'm basing her talking to Gregory after her first speaking to Zane, so that's why her avian reserve isn't as upfront.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this series, I would have never of had the imagination to make it and we wouldn't be disputing disclaimers. As it is, it was written, so I don't own it. **

_Last time: I asked him about his life, his childhood, anything I could to make him concentrate on something else._

The pain had become too much for him to speak; Libba prodding in and out of the wound. I looked at her fast moving hands, almost positive she didn't need to pull that tightly. She noticed my gaze and her force lessened.

Ignoring the reasons behind her vigor, I observed the guards by my bed, watching blankly the scene playing out on my bed. I was sitting, legs folded under me, on my oak chest, while a serpiente was being tended –if not painfully- by two small avian nurses in a brisk, no-nonsense attitude. If it wasn't so ironic, I would have laughed.

At that moment, I heard someone, a quiet shuffle in the hallway. I turned my head to find my mother standing, almost in disgust, in the doorway. I rose to greet her, and she turned, ushering me into the hallway. I cast my gaze to the bed; Betsy was shoving some herb down his throat. I recognized it as an anesthetic. I followed my mother.

"Your brother's vigil will be tonight," she said, no catch in her voice, no bump of emotion to reveal what I knew to be brewing under the surface: pain, sadness, grief, and anger at me. I held all these emotions myself; my mother must be as well. I bowed my head slightly, to acknowledge her words.

"Mourner's Rock," she continued. "I expect you to be there."

That stung. How could she think that I wouldn't attend my own brother's pyre? I saw her gaze flicker to my door, and I understood at once; she thought I would be too concerned with Gregory. "I can assure you I will attend," I said.

My mother nodded coolly and replied, "Fly with grace." Her dismissal sent her off onto other businesses in other hallways, while I went back to my own room.

I strode in to see my guards at tension, Libba and Betsy backing away from the bed slowly, cautiously. I looked around and saw Gregory, new bindings on his wound, lying where I had left him. But he was… changing. I stiffened, my natural instincts screaming. He wasn't shapeshifting, but it was almost as if something was brewing under his skin, turning black and deep-blue, then back to fleshy human pink. My heart started racing, but I forced myself to make the movements towards the bed, my feathers prickling. He was breathing more heavily, and Betsy said, not a bit of fear entering her practical tone, "I do believe some of the herbs we gave him made his body shift into a demi-form."

So that's what that was? I could see the skin along his entire body almost quivering with different colors, as if he couldn't decide to stay in human form or not.

"Shardae, you must leave." Karl said, almost anxiously.

"No," I said. "I don't think he's doing it on purpose." Indeed, his face was twisted. He was still feeling the pain, despite the painkiller given earlier.

"Despite that, you need to leave. He could lose control; we aren't even sure what he's doing." It was Rei who chimed in that time.

"No," I said more forcefully. "You have allowed me to walk the battlefields. Allow me to stay in my own chambers."

They bowed their heads respectfully, but did not lose their stiffness. They were prepared.

Libba and Betsy were inching out of the room, then Libba broke all pretences and scurried away, almost tripping. Betsy followed.

Gregory kept changing for a quarter of an hour, and it was difficult for me to look at him. His eyes were closed, so I didn't need to worry about the famed Cobriana eyes. They were sure to be menacing, capable of what they weren't when he was acting… kind? Polite? Thankful, even? Those weren't words one would apply to a serpiente.

I waited it out, clutching my legs to my chest. Swords never left my guards hands. It was when the shifting had been over for quite a while that he woke up.

I heard him stir, and I snapped out of my position. I was stiff from sitting the same way for so long. He groaned, and my guards tensed even more, if that was possible. I wasn't prepared for what he would say; what he would think. In the few sentences he had been talking to me, not explaining things to me, his moods changed swiftly, without warning.

"Were you _trying_ to poison me that time?" he asked good-naturedly, sitting up. That was a mistake. He fell back onto the bed and then looked around, almost in amusement, at the pillows that now surrounded him. "'Posse I can't even move now," he murmured.

"Are you in pain?" I asked anxiously, leaning towards him, hands fluttering, waiting for a command.

"No," he said, grinning again. "Whatever you gave me, it worked. No idea what it did before it worked, but it did."

I blinked a few times, confused. He sounded so mischievous, almost like a small child, not someone who was just in pain.

"Rei, Karl," I said. "Leave." My tone was cool, detached. Regal. They left without hesitation, but still grudgingly. They didn't want me near Gregory. I honestly couldn't blame them.

"Aren't you worried the wounded solider will somehow find a way off this bed to attack you?" He asked, humor twinkling in his eyes. Not sadistic humor, but I could see a true curiosity behind his question.

"No," I answered truthfully. I wasn't, not anymore. "I'm relying on the fact that you can't move."

He looked almost bewildered for a moment, surprised at my answer's snark, and then he laughed –there was no other word for it—heartily, then clutched his stomach in pain.

"Are you all right?" I asked, eyes wide, not sure what I could do.

He nodded, face twisted, and I waited anxiously for the pain to subside. It did after a few moments, and he said, "You're rather ironic. I wasn't expecting that.'

"Really, do you have to jump from topic to topic so often?" I asked, my worry fading away. I was almost annoyed; I had hoped the pain reliever would last longer than that.

He looked confused again, and then regained a slight… sparkle. "Yes, I do. It's almost worth it, hearing what you'll say in response. I take it you've never spoken to a serpiente before." He laughed, quieter this time, trying not to hurt his stomach.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I asked. "So you all flip subjects?"

"Yes."

"Maybe there's something in the water," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that."

"Did you now? Is that another of your powers, hearing things and switching subjects?"

"They very well could be. I don't think I'm authorized to tell you that though. I could lose them."

"Well, gods forbid _that_ happens." I was surprised at the retorts coming out of my own mouth; bantering with a snake.

Gregory opened his mouth to respond, when I said, "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" The one-liners just kept coming.

"Oh no," he said, "I'm well rested. How long was I asleep?"

"On and off, two days," I said, watching him. He hadn't moved, but the amusement in his voice had faded slightly as he spoke on. Although he tried to hide it, he _was_ still tired.

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Did it seem like a shorter time to you?"

"Well, no," he mussed, thinking. "But I remember little bits. I remember the battlefield… you carrying me… you have a lovely voice, by the way… I remember waking up while you were sewing up my wound, but I fell unconscious soon after… and then waking up and talking to you. And then those people came, because you yelled. And then I was asleep again."

"You don't remember?" I asked, thinking of him as his skin changed color like flowing ink.

"Remember what?" he said, confusion coloring his tone. I wasn't used to people revealing their emotions. It seemed to be something that was catching.

"Well," I said, almost gingerly. Just thinking of it scared me. "You were in pain… and you became blue. Your skin, I mean. And black. And you were shifting the colors." My heart started pounding faster.

He sort of smirked, an apologetic look in his eyes, but a bewildering expression on his mouth. I didn't understand what it meant. "My snake-skin. I don't remember changing. I'm sorry I frightened you and your guards."

"'S okay," I murmured. "But you honestly don't remember?" It seemed so shocking; I could never grow my wings in my sleep for a quarter of an hour and just not remember.

"No," he said simply, as if this explained everything.

"Has it ever happened before?" I pressed.

"I don't think so."

"You're not helping. I'm trying to figure out if I've hurt you with avian cures!"

He shrugged, one of the few things that didn't cause him pain. "Don't think so. We're pretty much the same, really. We both descend from humans, so we both have the same basic needs."

He said it so casually. My mind whirled.

"Well… alright then," I said, not sure what to make of this.

His eyes drooped a bit, and I said, "Sure you aren't tired?"

"Positive," he said, although his eyes lost the spark they had possessed before. And then he had fallen asleep.

**Read, review, have fun, and I swear it won't take as long to update next time!**


	6. The Diary

_Last time: "Positive," he said, although his eyes lost the spark they had possessed before. And then he had fallen asleep._

I pulled my knees to my chest and pondered my situation. Was it possible for me to trust him? Maybe. I had saved him. He owed me. But he was a serpiente, and no matter how trustworthy he seemed, he was still a snake. I had saved him, and I could expect him to let me take him to a forest, or somewhere, to let him go back to his own home. But even if I could trust someone who's life I saved, I could not trust a serpent. It was a fatal mistake, to trust my enemies. But he was the leader of my enemies. Would he not remember me?

I sat there, thinking, for a quarter of an hour while he slumbered. The light from the midmorning sun filtered through my balcony curtains, and I rose, somewhat stiff, to my wardrobe. I would get dressed for my brother's vigil later, but I needed to find something appropriate to wear now.

I opened the oak doors quietly, and moved my fingers swiftly through the fabrics, and finally, rested on an earthy brown fabric that was soft against my skin. I started to pull it out, and something fell from in between this skirt and the white shift that was folded on top of it. I let out a quiet cry of surprise, then looked over at the bed. Gregory didn't so much as stir.

I bent down to pick it up. It was loose papers, bound together messily, the corners yellowing. I recognized it after a moment of studying; it was a journal I had been given ages ago. It was written in the old language, and only a few of the passages were translated into a speech I could understand.

The book had fallen open, and I looked at the page that it landed on, bending back the paper that was caught under the others. It was one of the rare translated paragraphs.

_**In the back. She showed them only kindness. She treated them only warmly. They have nothing to gain. Trust a snake to attack just because a trusting back is turned.**_

I shut the book hastily. I didn't want to read that, not now. I closed my eyes for a moment to will my hands to stop shaking, My face smooth and emotions under control, I stooped down to retrieve the fabric of my skirt, then shoved the diary into my wardrobe, deep into the layers of fabric.

I took my skirt and a new white tunic to my bathroom. I shut the door, and proceded to lace up my clothing. I pulled my tunic against my hips until it hung strait and the subtle threading was not bunched together. My skirt was laced tightly at my waist, and my small feet poked out of the swishing fabric.

I sat down on my bench and pulled on my leather boots. I felt my boot sheath brush against my leg as my foot pressed into the lambskin in the boot. I laced up the buckle and then stepped out, moving away from my room and shutting the door. Rei and Karl looked at me, and I said, "I wish to go to Mourner's Rock early."

Rei nodded, and then I took flight, shifting easily into my form, him behind me. I wouldn't be permitted to go alone, and I was fine with that. I was used to it; I lived my entire life in a war where privacy from guards became a sweet luxury.

My wings beat hard, and I kept a steady pace. I didn't want to fly easily tonight. I pumped my wings faster, then let up suddenly, falling back, letting the wind catch me.

I didn't like that. It let my thoughts catch to me. Before Rei could blink, I was flying above him again, my eyes searching for the large scorched rock that I knew so well. I found it after a moment, and I dived, my beak pointed towards the ground. In the last possible moment, I let up, landing gracefully on a tree branch, and then I shifted back into the lanky form of a human. Rei was not with me; he was watching me from afar, giving me space and still protecting me. I had never thought about it like that. It was like someone making sure I was always all right, trying to protect me, but letting me do what I wished. It was a comforting thought.

I sat on the grass, looking at the rock. This rock, this lump of grass, this small hill, had taken the bodies of my family and ancestors and thrown their ashes back to the earth. It felt so large, and I knew that soon my brother would be lying there.

I don't know how long I sat, watching, not thinking of anything at all. Eventually, I heard footsteps and scramblings. I knew at once; it was my brother's body and the rest of the Vigil. I waited.

My mind felt strangly numb and sharp, as if I wasn't in my body, but observing clearly from back. I saw them load my brother into the fire, but I did not recognize it for what it was. I did not think. I just did. My feet followed the line, and it was only when my mother was standing next to me, watching the flames lick the body of her son, that the words I had read broke through my haze.

_**Trust a snake to attack just because a trusting back is turned.**_

I shuddered.


	7. Author's Note 2

**Author's note:**

**I started writing this quite a while ago. I am going to update it now, almost 4 years later- not to brag, but I feel I've become a much better writer in 4 years, and hopefully, after rereading the first book, I can bring Danica to life a lot better- I feel I did her very OCCly, and I think I can maybe work her out better. Also, I'll be bringing in more characters, such as Irene and Zane, and hopefully making it all come together very well. =] I hate it when a story I like stops, and never picks back up, so I'll pick back up =]**

**~author **


	8. Sharply Detached

**A/N: Hi! I actually haven't reread the book yet- shh, don't tell! But I really felt like just sitting down and pounding out a chapter. You know those feelings, when you just need to ~write? That's where I am right now. It was asked in a review (thanks for reviewing guys, just to say that you're glad I'm coming back! It made me feel very special =]) if I'd be rewriting the chapters- I don't think so. Not a lot of plot happened in that, so I think I'll keep those as it is, and then just keep on adding on with these. Thanks! **

**Also, I haven't actually sat down to write a story in quite a while. So consider this my warm up chapter. =]**

_Last time: _'Trust a snake to attack just because a trusting back is turned'. _I shuddered._

I did not come back from Mourner's Rock until the next morning had come. The sun rose under my watchful eyes, and it wasn't until it was high noon that I turned my back to the pyre, now cold, and rose, my demi-form wings pushing out of my back. I flew, pretending not to notice the shapes of my guards taking flight behind me. Vaguely, I felt badly for having them sit for hours while I sat in front of an ashen rock, but that couldn't be helped now.

My wings beat smoothly, in powerful thrusts. I was still distant, still feeling the stinging power of detachment. It didn't matter that I was going to inherit a kingdom dying from war, it didn't matter that the enemy was lying in my bed, safe and sound while my last brother had just been wiped from this world. It didn't matter to me that I should be upset, that I should be crying and screaming and swearing. I was royalty, I was heir, and I was cold.

Within two miles, my wings were screaming. My wing beats slowed while my back was twisted into knots from sitting so still for so long. My eyelids sagged; I was so tired. I had been taking care of Gregory for so long. I had to watch him every minute, in case he got worse. He had to get better. He _had_ to. People died in war, not lying on a soft bed! I couldn't take my eyes off of him, not for one instant. If he died while I was off doing something else, the serpiente would never forgive me. I would never forgive me.

"_Or maybe you're just afraid," _a voice whispered silkily in my ear. _"Maybe you're afraid to stop watching him. Maybe you're just terrified you're going to become that trusting back."_

I pushed that back to the outskirts of my mind. That couldn't happen. I could have let Gregory die, and surely my kindness would be repaid? We had spoken. I had given him water, I had given him food and medicine and respect. I feared him, yes, but maybe he'd show me mercy. He could go back to his people and tell them that the only reason he had survived was due to the kindness of the heir, the soon to be Tuuli Thea. He wouldn't attack me. He couldn't. That would be going against nature itself. You don't attack someone who helps you. You can't attack someone who shows you kindness!

I didn't notice that I had drooped dangerously low to the treetops. My sight was blurry, and I didn't even realize that I had been fading in and out of consciousness until I heard Rei yell to the other guards. As I hit the canopy and spun out of control, the last thing I saw was Rei's as he caught me, his face contorted into panic.

I awoke to screaming. I bolted up, my hand going for the blade in my belt. My mind reeled, and a wave of nausea forced me back down. My eyes darted around. There was some type of commotion outside, in the hallway. I heard yelling, and footsteps banging around. I tried to get up again, and this time I barely sat up before a hand forced me back down again. I looked up, terrified, into the face of Gregory Cobriana. His face was upturned in a vicious smile as he pushed me back onto the bed and raised a knife. I screamed just as his evil grin turned into a different face, blending into the features I knew so well, and as his knife came down to plunge into my stomach, it was rather a hand that swooped down to grab mine, and his face had morphed into Rei's.

"Dani, are you all right?" he asked me, eyes wide and worried. His hands were clasping mine, and that malicious grin that had been staring me down a moment earlier was a look of desperation. "You've been asleep for hours, tossing and turning." He paused, looking at me, taking in my wild eyes and ragged breath. I tried to calm myself, but to no avail. Adrenaline was still racing through my veins, and Andreios must have stood there for five minutes, quietly stroking my hand while I got myself under control.

Finally, my breathing slowed, and I was able to relax the death grip I had on his hand. "What's happening?" I asked him haltingly, as my wits returned to me. "I thought I heard screaming." I listened hard, but there was no more commotion happening outside of this room. Not wanting to tempt fate, I didn't try to sit up again, but rather lifted my head a few inches and gazed around the room. It was my bedroom, exactly as I had left it the previous day. My skirt was crumpled up on the floor, my pillows piled up in the corner so Gregory could sleep—

"Where's Gregory?" I demanded. Rei looked at me, and something flashed in his eyes. I had no time to analyze it, for in an instant it disappeared behind his well worn avian reserve. A smooth mask replaced his frantic worry, and he reported to me as he would a solider to the heir: "He was taken away to a better suited room. You were ill, and it was decided that you should be the one staying in your own bedroom." There was a faint accusatory tone playing around the edges of his words.

I nodded and slumped back down onto the pillows. "Where is this 'better suited room'?" I asked carelessly. If truth be told, I was still reeling from that horrible –day dream? Nightmare? Hallucination?— that I had had earlier. I could still see the glint of the metal, the callous look on Gregory's face, and I still remembered the cold feeling of sticky blood spreading across my stomach.

But I couldn't let on to that. If Andreios knew about my fears, he'd kill Gregory without a second thought. I was the only reason this serpiente prince was still alive. I took a deep breath, trying to swallow any doubt I had. My eyes flickered back to my guard's face. "You said I've been asleep? What – what happened?"

"You passed out, on the way back from Mourner's Rock." He spoke so matter-of-factly, as if he hadn't even been worried. I noticed, with a jolt, that his hands were still clasping mine. My eyes widened. His hands weren't soft, not at all. They were rough as they stroked my fingers, his hands bearing the touch of a thousand battles. But these same hands that had sent so many serpiente to their deaths were now holding mine.

Sheer reflex pulled my hands out of his. He looked down on me, startled for the slightest instant before he turned his head away from mine, instead helping me sit up. His hands slid underneath the pillows, propping them up, and I noticed that his hands did not touch my bare skin again. I wanted to apologize; I wanted to ask him to hold my hand again. I needed the reassurance that everything would be all right. I needed to be told, to be comforted, and I had to know that this wasn't a mistake. I wished he would just do it again, without asking, because I couldn't answer him with a yes, but I wouldn't dream of answering with a no, either.

It didn't matter, anyway. I was heir, and he was my guard, and we were avian. Him holding my hand was nothing but a calming presence while I was trying to get a hold of myself. Now that I had recovered, we could go on with our lives. Our strong, sharp, and secluded avian lives.

"Why did I pass out?" I asked him formally, now that I was propped into a sitting position. The nausea threatened to come back, but I beat it down. Swallowing a few times, I looked around the room again. "And what was that noise? I heard—" I swallowed again, and pressed on. "I thought I heard fighting."

Andreios followed my gaze to the door and the now silent hallway that was beyond it. "There was, Shardae." he answered me, sighing slightly. "There is … discomfort, among the people, about there being a Cobriana in the Keep." He placed a delicate emphasis on the words, and I watched him carefully. Rei would never go against my orders, but I knew he wouldn't hesitate to hurt Gregory is he felt it was necessary. "The public feels that you have been placed under his spell," he continued. "And the noises you heard was a group of sparrows, trying to come up here to … liberate you."

I looked at him in horror. My own people were turning against me? The last thing I needed was a revolt on my hands, not while there was a war to juggle and the throne almost vacant. "Is this a commonly held belief?" I asked breathlessly. This was horrible news.

"Not at all, Shardae," Rei responded, seeming relieved to give me a sliver of good news. "Most people do not believe the rumors that there is a serpent in the Keep, and those who do are seen as mad. The only people who know are most loyal to you, and we wouldn't breathe a word." He gazed at me earnestly. I knew he was loyal; he would never have to convince me of that.

I sat up a little straighter, measuring how ill I felt. The wave of nausea that had been pushing me back had now subsided to a little tug, just a pull on the back of my head. I noted that I wasn't dressed in the light brown dress that I had worn yesterday (the day before? I had no way of knowing how long I had been asleep), but instead a soft blue shift and lambskin night pants. I was dressed for bed, and that was no way to go Gregory.

Pushing myself out of bed, I stumbled a little bit on the rug underneath my feet. Andreios caught me at once, but the moment I was steady, he let me go, almost jumping away from me. I did not bother focusing on that, but rather on my reflection on my wall-side mirror.

"Please call someone in to help me get dressed, Andreios," I commanded. I didn't think I could handle the lacing and tying without some form of aid.

He bowed and murmured some type of affirmation. Rei turned and walked to the farside of the room, leaving me to clutch my dresser top for support. "Oh, and, Dani?" Rei turned away from the door and addressed me, his hand on the doorknob. "Betsy and the other healers ran tests. It wasn't poison that caused you to pass out. Believe me, we checked."

And like that, he was out of my room an in the hallway, closing the door quietly after him.

**A/N: also, this is purely set in Hawksong. Anything that is canon in the other four books is not canon in this fic. So, for example- any relationships, any grudges, any character plots or changes in personality, anything of that sort? If it happens in anything that is not Hawksong, it is not going to be honored in this fic. Example- let's say X and Y get married in Falcondance. X and Y may still get married in this fic, or X and Z may start a relationship, while Y dies a lonely old spinster. I'm not honoring anything from the sequels as factual in this fic. **

**Ahaha, also, that doesn't mean that this is a romantic fic, either, just because I used marriage as an example. I really haven't decided if this is going to have any type of romantic plot in it. At the moment, I'm leaning towards yes, but I still have no idea. I want to try to make this fic come to life after a good 4 years, so I don't have anything set in stone yet. =] Thanks for reading! (and there ends my atrociously long a/n.)**

**p.s.- this writing isn't the best, I know. This really was a warm up chapter. =] bear with me. Okay, now it's over.**


	9. How Can I Trust You, Gregory?

**A/N: Since we really didn't get to know Gregory in the books, I've decided to shape his personality myself. Enjoy, read, and review! =]**

_Last time: _"_Oh, and, Dani?" Rei turned away from the door and addressed me, his hand on the doorknob. "Betsy and the other healers ran tests. It wasn't poison that caused you to pass out. Believe me, we checked." And like that, he was out of my room an in the hallway, closing the door quietly after him._

I was sitting on my bed with my hands folded on my lap when there was a knock at the door. "Shardae?" a voice inquired from the hallway. "May I come in? It's Cecelia, one of the maids from the third floor. I was called up here to help you dress?"

"Enter." I stood up, steadying myself on my bedpost. A small sparrow opened the door, standing timidly. I nodded at her warmly. "I am still a little bit ill, Cecilia, so if you could help me with my ties? It would be most appreciated."

"Of course, Shardae." She sank into a curtsy before she walked in any farther. She door shut behind her softly. "What is it that you would like to wear?"

I hadn't gotten that far. "Um. Well, let's look." I walked carefully over to my wardrobe and scanned my clothing, looking for anything that had the least amount of hooks. I pulled out a soft burgundy shade and shook out any wrinkles. "This one will do," I told Cecilia, smiling slightly at her.

She dropped into another curtsy and then rose, taking the fabric from my hands. Draping it over her forearm, she helped me undo the back of my shift. I carefully pulled it over my head, keeping my soft slacks on until Cecila had helped me step into the maroon dress. Her hands lightly grazed the back of my neck as she tied the thick straps together. Instantly, I was reminded of Rei. I didn't mean to offend him by wrenching my hands away. It was just instinct. Once I had realized that his hands existed, and that they had been touching _my _hands, I couldn't help but move. It wasn't something that I was normally exposed to.

"Shardae?" Cecilia snapped me back to attention. "Shardae, I'm finished."

I stepped forward and turned around to see Cecilia deftly scooping up the fabric I had left on the floor. "I'll take care of these. If there is anything I can help you with, milady?" She looked at me, her face the blank expression of a servant, intent on pleasing me just due to my title.

I didn't know this maid, and yet, looking into her face, I wanted to tell her everything. I needed somebody to listen, somebody to stop judging me, and this frail little sparrow with the heart shaped lips was the same as the next frail little sparrow with heart shaped lips. I needed advice: was I doing the right thing with Gregory? What about Rei? How could I apologize to him for something I wasn't even sure why I should be sorry for? My mother was angry with me, there was a party of "liberators" showing up at my door to kill me, and I was all alone, desperately alone, in my decisions. I needed a confidante; I needed someone to spill my secrets to. I needed a friend.

"No, that will be all, Cecelia," I said distantly. "Thank you for your assistance."

She nodded and curtsied one more time, and then left quietly. I watched her go, sighing.

Well, I had gotten dressed to go check on Gregory, and that was my plan. Following Cecilia's suit, I left my room, and Rei stepped forward to meet me at once. I knew he was guarding my door- he would never trust anybody else with the job, not with a serpent in the Keep.

"I'd like to see Gregory," I told him, trying to stop my heart from pounding. I knew that I wasn't there to just "see" Gregory. I had to confront him. I couldn't have any doubt in my mind about his intentions, and my breathing hitched with dread.

Rei nodded. "I can take you to him, Shardae. He's in the southern wing."

"Thank you." I couldn't think of what else to say. Shifting shape, we took off, and I gratefully embraced the silence that our hawk forms forced. I didn't know what to say to him. It was in avian nature to just ignore, to that it had ever happened and pretend that it didn't matter. But it did. Rei was my dearest friend, and I couldn't bear the thought of him being alienated from me too, not in this trying time.

I followed his lead as we flew, landing on a spiral stairwell surrounded by no less than half a dozen guards. Did they really think Gregory was so dangerous?

We shifted back into human forms and I looked to the doorway that all of the guards had circled. "I'm presuming this is where he is, then?" They all nodded their consent.

"Shardae, if I may," Rei started, his tone reserved. "You shouldn't go in there without an escort." Rei paused for the slightest moment before pressing on. "He has been feeling better, the healers say. I feel you'll be putting yourself in unneeded danger by entering alone."

I looked down, and then gazed into faces of my guards, all nodding their agreement. "I think I shall be okay," I said. "If there is any trouble, don't fear that I will hesitate to call you."

Rei did not look convinced, but he shifted to let me pass through and enter, which I did.

The room was dark, except for a fraction of light that was peeking through the curtains. It wasn't as luxurious as my room, but, as I was half expecting him to be chained up somewhere, it was quite passable.

Gregory was awake. He looked up at me, and his fae broke out into a grin. "Hi! I was wondering where you went. They moved me from your rooms. Pretty angrily, too," he added thoughtfully. "You were sick. They blamed me. Can't say I blamethem for blaming me."

I didn't walk any closer to him. "I was simply tired," I stated distantly, and he sat up. If I could see him well enough in the dark, I would have sworn he looked worried.

"What—what do you mean? Are you—what's wrong?" He sounded genuinely confused, and concerned. I could have laughed. All of my guards were out there, thinking Gregory was going to kill me, and here he was, sounding as worried as if I were a lifelong friend who was dying from a chronic illness.

"I'm fine," I started to assure him, without meaning to. I stopped myself. The entire reason I came here was to confront him. I couldn't be talking to him kindly! "Rather," I stated more remotely, gathering the fringes of my composure, "It was nothing worth worrying over."

"Well, that's good!"

"How can I trust you, Gregory?" I blurted out, staring at my hands as I folded them in and out of the creases of my skirt. "How can I know that you aren't going to kill me the moment I step closer to your bedside?"

I heard him shifting on the bed. I looked up to see him stretching, arms askew, a happy-go-lucky look on his face. "You can't!" he said happily. "I feel a lot better though, honest. So if I wanted to kill you, I could have done it already."

I pursed my lips. "That doesn't make me feel better."

Loud laughter turned into hacking, and he fell backwards onto the pillows, wet coughs splurting from his mouth. I rushed over to the bedside and watched in horror while he heaved violently, blood trickling down his chin. I looked around desperately – a mug of water? Should I call for a healer? He was only coughing, but was that a sign that he was getting worse, not better? I hesitated.

It was Gregory who made up my mind for me. After a moment or two, his coughing subsided, and he opened his eyes. "Guess I wasn't as better as I thought I was," he said, smiling feebly.

"Hush," I told him, touching his forehead gently. He was drenched in sweat. "So that was all bravado, then?" I asked him while I used the edge of my sleeve to gently wipe his face.

Gregory closed his eyes and laughed quietly. "Not bravado. Just me. My dad always said I was too high-strung." He paused, smiling at some silent memory. "He was being funny, you see," he added unnecessarily. "It's a joke because I'm always relaxed. Get it?"

I chuckled softly at the earnest look on his face. "Yes, I get it. Your father must be a pretty funny guy."

Gregory's face fell. "He was."

I didn't know what to say to that. I should have noticed the past tense he used referring to his father earlier. I looked away from him, unsure of what to assume. Did his father die at the hands of one of my own soldiers, from my mother's orders? In wartime, it was a luxury – and a fallacy - to assume that someone died of natural causes.

Gregory broke the mounting tension. "It's okay," he said, his signature smile back. "It was a while ago."

That didn't help, of course. The war had been going on for as long as any generation could remember. Saying that his father had died a while ago did not eliminate the possibility that he had been killed in war. I took a deep breath and regained the composure that I seemed to have left at the door. "Are you comfortable?" I asked, changing the subject with as much tact as I possibly could muster up. Under the circumstances, it wasn't much.

"If you could open the curtains a little bit, that'd be nice," he said hopefully, as if I would refuse. At once, I walked over and grasped the edge of the fabric. The curtains were cold and thick in my fingers, feeling foreign on my skin. The Keep did not have heavy curtains- avians as a whole loved sunlight, loved the air that would lightly billow underneath gauzy treatments.

"So, was _that_ all bravado, then?" Gregory asked airily as I pulled open the curtains.

"What do you mean?" I inquired, puzzled. I opened up the other window to see three guards standing alert on the balcony. They all nodded at me, evidently not willing to turn down their attention for the few moments that it would take to bow. I turned away from them.

"The 'how-can-I-trust-you-you're-going-to-kill-me' thing," he responded, watching me move away from the window. I couldn't be certain, but I thought his eyes narrowed as he tried to look out the window. The glare from the sunlight was too much to tell. "You said that you were worried, but when I was coughing, you rushed over here. That could have been a ruse."

My defenses were back up. "Was it a ruse, Gregory?" I asked him carefully, stepping lightly. My skin was tingling, my heart buzzing.

He sighed, a shadow of the happy person he had been a moment ago. "No, silly girl." He closed his eyes and sank against his pillows. "Why would I want to kill you?" he asked, speaking to me or himself, I wasn't sure. "I'm not a fighter. Sure, I'm the solider, but I'm not a fighter." His eyes snapped back open, and he looked at me, pleading. "I never liked fighting. I was older, so I had to be the solider, but the blood? No, I could never stand it. I've never even killed anybody." By the look on his face, I knew this was something that had been eating him up. "I have had chances to, dozens of chances! But, I just, I could never. I could never take a life. My family—" Here, he took another breath and plowed on. "My brother is the fighter, not me. Zane? Ha! He'd gut you where you stood." My eyes widened, and my hands shook involuntarily.

Zane continued, rambling wildly. "But not me, I'm not a fighter. Danica, I've thought about killing you. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't." He stared straight into my eyes, beseeching, and I couldn't move. I was entranced by his desperation. "But what would it do? Prolong this war? I tried to convince myself to get the guts to do it, but I'm not my brother. I'm not a fighter. I'm not a killer. I'm telling you, Danica, why should I kill you? I've tried to figure it out. I know that my family, my _people_ would tell me that I'm here, to do it! This is a chance nobody has! But, this violence? I don't understand it! How will killing you help anybody? No, it wouldn't," he said, sinking back onto the pillows and closing his eyes. "Violence never helps anybody."

I looked at him, and willed my voice not to shake. "So you thought about killing me?"

He laughed, a bitter sound. "I tried to convince myself it was for the best. But I could never do that. Killing, no. There is no reason why your life ending would help anybody."

I didn't know what to think. He was admitting to trying to kill me, but not wanting to. Was there a big difference between the two? He wasn't a killer, but he was laying it out in front of me that he was supposed to be one. What could I say? Thank you or not killing me? I don't think violence is a good thing either? I'm sorry that my people have killed yours?

"When I rescued you in that field," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I went through the same thing you are going through now."

"Not now," he interrupted. "I wouldn't even entertain that notion now."

"Regardless," I continued. "I went through this same dilemma. My guards said I should leave you there to die, you told me to kill you, and I didn't know what to do. My brother was dead, and it was by the hands of your people." He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a hand. "So it would have been very easy for me to just let you die. But, it wasn't your fault, this war. And it isn't mine either. I think all this blame just distracts us from the issues, and it makes us hate each other more. But, having you sit here, I know that you aren't evil. And neither am I."

"I know," he said, smiling again. His good mood seemed to be returning. "So it's good, then! That neither of us are dead. Because now we know!"

I laughed softly. "Yeah, it's good that neither of us are dead."

"I don't think I'd enjoy that," he said, stretching out on the bed. His bad mood seemed to have vanished out the door. "Being dead isn't good." He yawned.

"Are you tired?" I asked him. "Should I let you alone?" Actually, I should send him up a healer, or some type of food. "Are they feeding you?" I asked belatedly. I wasn't sure if they had just locked him up in here, not worrying about any needs he might have.

"Yup! Some lady comes in and feeds me soup. Well, not actually feeds me, you see. Just gives me the bowl. It's not bad. It has a weird texture to it, though."

I smiled and came closer to his bed, moving a stool so I could sit next to him. We discussed the differences between stew and soup- apparently there was no soup where he came from, just hearty stews with thick meats swirling around in the sauce. By the time I left him, it was because he had his head tilted backwards, his tongue poking out of his mouth while he snored softly.

Rei was standing outside of Gregory's door, and he escorted me back. We were silent again, partly because of our forms, and mainly because I had nothing to say.

We landed, and he stood next to me, letting me know that he would be guarding my door, again, tonight. "Goodnight, Shardae," he told me, standing, back stiff to the wall.

"Goodnight," I told him, sighing slightly. I entered my room and let the door shut behind me. Before my senses even had time to register the subtle shift in the shadows, there was a hand clenched around my mouth, and an arm around my waist, preventing me from moving. Or screaming.


	10. Please Don't Scream

_Last time: _"Goodnight," I told him, sighing slightly. I entered my room and let the door shut behind me. Before my senses even had time to register the subtle shift in the shadows, there was a hand clenched around my mouth, and an arm around my waist, preventing me from moving. Or screaming.

"Please don't scream," the voice behind me whispered as an arm snaked around my waist, holding me tightly. It was a man's voice, smooth and a little bit anxious. I bit down on his hand hard, trying desperately to make some type of noise, but he had me too tightly. My skin tingled, and I could feel his arms pressing into my mine, keeping me locked tight. Thinking fast, I tried to reach the knife in my belt pocket. The stranger behind me sensed my change in movement, and crushed me tighter to him. I screamed even harder.

"Please don't scream!" he asked again, sounding desperate. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to talk to you. Please don't panic."

My heartbeat was a buzz in my ears. How could I not panic, while a madman was holding me hostage? I stomped on his foot, trying anything to get him to let me go so I could scream for Andreios, right outside in the hallway, to come and help. The madman didn't even flinch.

"I don't want to hurt you," he repeated, sounding much calmer. "Please stop struggling, so I can let you go and we can talk."

My mind was racing. If I stopped struggling, once he let me go, I could scream for help. Or, once I stopped struggling, this stranger could slip a knife through my ribs without any trouble.

No, if he wanted to kill me, he would have done it the moment I walked through the door, not grab me and go through all this. I nodded against his hand, and stopped struggling. My heartbeat raced while I pretended to calm down, trying to wait until the perfect moment to attack him.

"See?" My capturer breathed, sounding relieved. "I don't want to hurt you. Now, I am going to lower my hand from your face, okay? And I want you to say something, anything. But don't scream. If I can trust that you won't scream, I'll let you go so we can negotiate the release of your hostage, Gregory Cobriana."

My mind reeled at this. _Prisoner?_ I thought, my mind spluttering to catch up with these events. _What in the sky—_

It didn't matter. The arms around me loosened, and years of training kicked in. I elbow the man harshly in the stomach and whirled around, intent on seeing who my attacker was.

_Always scream, Danica_, my mother drilled into me when I was younger. _Don't be a hero; yell out. You're all that's left, now. _However, it didn't matter how many times I had always been reminded to let my guards do their duty. I couldn't have screamed if I wanted to. Red eyes pinned me frozen to the spot. I knew without thinking twice, without ever seeing them used, without having ever seen the owner, that the man in my room was no ordinary attacker.

_"My brother is the fighter, not me. Zane? Ha! He'd gut you where you stood."_

Without realizing it, I was taking small steps backwards, trying to escape that blood-red stare. Something crashed to the floor behind me as I knocked into it, and glass shattered at my feet. I still could not move.

"Shardae?" Andreios called from outside of my door. "Shardae, are you alright?"

"Don't say a word." The man in front of me spoke softly as he inched forward, still holding me fast. My heart was racing, fluttering a tattoo against my throat. I couldn't breathe. My chest was constricting as every instinct in me was screaming to run, flee, fly away!- but I couldn't. I was pinned, staring into his face as my back hit the wall.

"I want to negotiate with you about the release of my brother," Zane Cobriana uttered earnestly. "Please don't think I'm here to hurt you."

He was the single most terrifying thing I'd ever seen.

"Danica?" Rei called again, more urgently. "Shardae?" There was a sharp rap at the door, and then a loud thud. For a split second, the serpent's focus shifted from me to the corridor outside, and I was freed.

"Rei!" I cried out weakly. "Guards, please!"

I heard an angry swear as the door smashed open, Rei leading two other guards into my room. A rough hand snatched at my waist, pulling me in front of Zane. A knife was at my throat, and the room was suddenly still.

"Take me to my brother, or else she's mine." The threat wasn't needed, not when there was a drop of blood already dripping lazily down my throat, pulsing ever so slightly with the rush of my heartbeat.

In the resulting chaos, I couldn't be sure what happened. Everything was motionless, and then there was a sudden crack and something hard slammed into me. I felt the knife cut into my shoulder blade as I fell onto something soft, my head thumping against the floor. A flash of light and I was snatched up again, being pulled along something splintery. Yells and grunts surrounded the air as I was thrust through air, through the breezes, onto something hard and unforgiving. I screamed, and a voice swore loudly in my ear. An arm clasped around my waist and a hand over my mouth, and I was thrown violently onto a horse. I got a quick glimpse of the ground before a blindfold was tied roughly over my face.

"Go!" someone urged, and I felt myself being jostled on the horse, my stomach banging into the side of the saddle. I kept screaming as I heard the rushing flutter of wings behind me and the _twang_ of arrows.

"Oi, shut her up!" another voice snarled. Something hit my head with a sharp blow, and everything went black.


	11. You Are Not To Be A Prisoner Here

_Last time: _"Oi, shut her up!" another voice snarled. Something hit my head with a sharp blow, and everything went black.

"Have some tea," a voice muttered wearily to me.

My head was killing me. I tried to open my eyes and found that one of them was concealed. I lifted my hand sluggishly to my forehead, feeling a gauze pad wrapped tightly around me. Looking from the eye I could see out of, I glanced around the room. It was a cozy circular area, furnished richly in bright colors and draperies of gold. I inspected where I was sitting, feeling soft velvet underneath my fingertips.

I did a quick mental check over my body. My head was aching fiercely, but I couldn't find any other maladies. There was a woman in front of me, holding out a steaming cup. Her long hair, pulled back into a loose bun, was sprinkled with gray, and she wore a deep emerald dressing robe over a thin silver nightgown. She clutched her robe to her chest as I eyed the cup suspiciously, not making a motion to take it.

"Why offer her tea?" A voice cried out from the other side of the room, and the woman turned to Zane Cobriana, who was pacing around the room frantically. "So she can enjoy the lap of luxury while Gregory is held host—"

"So maybe she can remember that she was treated well here, and extend the favor _to_ Gregory when she returns to her people!" she snapped, her slight figure wavering angrily. "Do you have any idea what you have done, Zane?" They locked tension-filled eyes for a moment, and then the woman slumped back in her seat, taking an exhausted sip from the tea that I wouldn't touch. "I know you meant well, but I fear you don't understand the magnitude of what has been done," she said, much more softly. "This hasn't been done, not in the entire history of the war."

"I know, Mother," Zane said, staring at the floor. "I panicked."

The woman stood and walked towards him, murmuring soft words to Zane with her arms outstretched. I took the opportunity to try and make sense of what had happened. I remembered Zane in my room, holding me hostage. Rei came in to save me, and I was moved. Everything after that was a blur. I straightened up in my chair. No Avian had ever come out alive to share what the inside looked like, but I was certain that I was in the Serpientine palace. My neck itched, and I realized with horror that I was dressed in a light fabric that constricted the feathers on the back of my neck. I blanched. Had they undressed me?

"You are not to be a prisoner here," the woman uttered, turning back to me. "This was a mistake, a grievous mistake. The Serpiente are more than willing to negotiate your release with the release of Gregory Cobriana."

My eyes widened. Regardless of this being a 'grievous mistake', I was to be traded for Gregory's safe passage home. The scenarios flickered by in my head, each worse than the last. I was certain that my mother would blame Gregory for my kidnapping. What would happen then? Would he be tortured, killed? How could I get home? I would surely have the same punishment enacted on me.

And at the same time, I was worried for Gregory's safety. Why had I saved him? It was a rash decision, one that I barely remembered. The emotion and heat of the battlefield had gotten to me, that was all. But while everyone else was looking at it through purely political motives, I hadn't even considered that he could be used for _negotiations_. He seemed too … lifelike, even on the brink of death. Too animated, too personable, to simply be a pawn in any political schemes. Too much like a real person.

"I regret to inform you that, as heir to the throne of the Tuuli Thea and Gregory Cobriana's primary care keeper, I do not believe he will be in well-enough condition to make such a journey as to the Serpientine lands." I stood up tall and proud, my voice regally strong. Not an ounce of my inner quivering was revealed.

"Not in well enough condition?" Gregory demanded, kicking at a wall. The resounding boom made me flinch. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," I said, my voice smooth. Sky above, he was so violent! What if his mother wasn't there to be a calming presence? I inwardly shuddered to think about it. I had heard horror stories about the serpent court. "He was received at our court on the brink of death, after being shot down in a battlefield. Since then, he has been being nursed back to health."

Zane spat on the ground, still pacing wildly. "I don't believe a word you say," he hissed.

"Zane!" the woman snapped. "That is _enough._" He growled and turned away from the two of us, storming out of the chamber. I heard something crash in the hallway outside.

"You can't possibly think of hurting me," I said distantly. I was the soon to be Tuuli Thea, not a quivering little girl, and I would act as one. "The entire Royal Flight will be knocking down your walls within the hour."

"Oh, they've been outside for quite some time," she responded airily. "Once we informed them there will be negotiations for your release and not an attack, they refrained."

"How long have I been here?" I asked conversationally.

Before the woman could answer, Zane came back into the room, walking with a bit less malice. "I am telling you now," he said, seating himself into the chair a few feet away from mine, "my family will not be toyed with. Dying in battle is bad enough, but for you to kidnap and torture Gregory—" he cut off, his voice thick. "You will return him to us."

I clenched my hands together to hide their shaking. "I find it slightly ironic that I am to be lectured on kidnapping from one who took me from my own home," I retorted calmly, draping my words in an elegant tone. "Once again, I will repeat for your benefit: I have not harmed Gregory in any way."

Zane laughed bitterly. "I believe you like I believe that the earth is made of steel," he snorted.

"That is your choice," I responded, turning away from him to his mother. "Who am I to speak to so I can have these … negotiations? You must realize, I cannot negotiate with anybody without having someone here to represent me."

Once my guards were here for the negotiations, they would sweep me away from these kidnappers. I would return home and,

and what?

Gregory did have to go back to his own people soon. Once I had nursed him back to health, what was my plan? I didn't exactly have one. The woman in front of me was speaking, but I wasn't listening, lost in my own thoughts. How could I have not thought of this? I had been so caught up in how to keep him alive, I had never considered what would happen after. Would our families go back to fighting? That seemed absurd to me, when I thought of it. I had talked with him for hours, I had held his hand and sang to him, he had told me stories about his childhood. In a few days, we had bonded, and I couldn't ignore that. I had become-, well, attached, slightly, at least.

Would Gregory care that I had saved his life? I'd like to think that he would. But when put against his brother, who obviously wanted to kill me, or his mother, who considered me a prisoner, no matter what she said? I wasn't sure what would happen.

_**A/N: I hate to end it here, but I am really super tired (it is midnight here!) and I want to head to bed, but I also want to post this chapter. So, the ending isn't exactly swell. =]**_


	12. How Did You Find The Tea, Dear?

**A/N: So, my boyfriend read my last chapter, and was very upset that Danica had not taken the tea. He felt that, had she taken the tea offered to her, everything would have ended up swell. So he decided to write ~this, (having never read the book, just my fanfic), saying what would happen if Danica took the tea. Enjoy =]**

I took the offered tea with a shaky hand. Examining the top, all I saw was a dark, swirling liquid, steaming fragrantly. I raised it to my mouth and took a tentative sip, tasting nothing out of the ordinary, no type of poision.

"There's a good girl!" A voice cried out from the other side of the room, and the woman turned to Zane Cobriana, who had stopped pacing around the room. "Clearly she trusts us just as we should trust her!" Zane stooped to Danica's level and grasped one of her wrists in a friendly way. "Come, mother!" The austere air vanished from the room as both members of the Serpentine Court linked arms and began to sing gaily. I stared in bewilderment at the scene before me, but the tune was so cheerful and the joy so obvious that I was hard-pressed to maintain my silence!

"How did you find the tea, dear?" asked the woman cheerily as the last notes of the song died away. "Oh, quite delicious!" I lied, thinking it best not to insult the foodstuffs of my hostess so soon after gaining her favor. "What sort of tea leaves do you use?"

"I believe **I** can answer that one, milady," Zane responded. "Our tea leaves come from only the finest Rattlevines, handplucked from the gardens outside the royal palace. The flavor is mild to our palates, but I daresay it is nigh overpowering to an avian like yourself?"

"Oh no, milord! It is quite delectable!" I put on a brave face and sipped some more of the tea; it was nothing extraordinary, but keeping them on the subject seemed the best course of action. Sky above! Maybe there was an escape plan in there somewhere!

"Well, my dear, I'm glad you approve!" crowed the woman. She hurriedly grabbed the cup from my hands and bustled away through a door that was previously hidden in the shadows. Upon its opening, I detected a subtle waft of cinnamon and berries, the unmistakable scent of RoReB Pie! Although how the enemy came to know of Robin Red Breast pie, I knew would be a challenge. "Is that pie I detect?" I asked innocently. At once, Zane fell to his knees with such a look of sweet helplessness that I nearly forgot he had kidnapped me.

"Oh yes, milady! We scoured the lands looking for only the finest ingredients to go with your tea. Once we knew that our brother was in your care, which I now know to be good and true!, we began a smorgasbord of avian delights to tickle your tastebuds with!" The boy looked positively mad with worship, begging for my acknowledgment and my praise.

I stood up from my chair and wandered over to the door. "Might I perhaps take a peek at the pie?" I asked coyly. "Or is that only for the Court?" Zane nearly fell over himself trying to get to the door and open it for me.

"Of course, milady! Ground below! To think that you would be unwelcome in a single room of our Court!" As Zane proposed to open the door, it burst open from the other side, knocking him quite senseless on his bottom. The woman returned into the room, carrying a fresh cup of tea with her.

"Danica! I may call you Danica, mayn't I? Your second cup of tea is ready, my dear. Now, be a good girl and drink up and tell us **all** about dear Gregory. How's he doing? He's such a delicate lad, you know?" The woman seated herself by the door, and, with a disappointed look from Zane, I knew that my shot at getting out through the kitchens had momentarily vanished.

I knew that the best course of action would be to tell the truth without revealing too much that I was still the enemy. The woman seemed to be in a good enough mood, and Zane was already in my pocket, so all I had to do was get her distracted enough to make my escape. "Gregory is safe," I intoned softly, trying to make it seem as though I was choked with emotion. "But only barely." I cradled the teacup in my hands and made the spoon rattle noticeably. The woman noticed this too and instantly grabbed the cup away from me.

"A fresh cup of tea! By all the pebbles and rocks on the cold hard ground! Lukewarm tea is not to be served to those who are grieving!"

The woman left the room again, and Zane instantly rushed over to me. "Milday, we must away before she returns, or I swear by all that is sedimentary and holy I shall be dead by noon tomorrow!" Zane's passion came as somewhat of a surprise to me, but it was my best bet at escaping.

"Oh, milord! However shall we make our escape? Your mother is in the kitchen and the smell of Robin Red Breast Pie cannot possibly mask my scent!"

Zane smiled proudly and tapped his foot against a rock in the wall. At once, a callous shifting noise could be heard, and I detected a change in the wall at the far end of the room. "I have installed a secret passage to this room for precisely such an occasion! If I ever need to secretly enter or leave the interrogation room, I use that passage."

With that, Zane gripped my hand lightly and drew me to my feet. "Mother!" he called through the open kitchen door. "Mother, the prisoner requires extra sugar cubes in her tea this time. The story of Gregory is much too tragic for bitter and black."

The woman's answer was lost to our gleeful shrieks as we disappeared down the passage, frolicking beneath the corridors of the Serpentine royal palace.

**Once again, this was for fun =] He has never read the books; he just likes being silly.**


End file.
